The Glass House
by PixieStik
Summary: Fate turns a miracle into a tragedy...


The Glass House

The Glass House

**Author's Note:** This will probably be the last fic you'll get from me in a while. I leave for my first year of college tom—damn, today! I was hoping to finish this other story before I left but then this little fic jumped into my head and forced me to do its bidding. So for the last few hours that has been my purpose. And here it is. Oh, and one more thing. This may seem narcissistic but if you like the story please give me feedback, I need encouragement every now and then. And even if you don't like it, a little constructive criticism never hurt anybody. So read _and_ review… Please…

***

The day I found out was the happiest day of my life. I ran around the halls looking for Logan and when I told him, he lifted me off my feet and swung me around. 

He was so happy for us; I'd never seen him like that. He started screaming and running around the mansion, tossing cigars at the people standing in the halls… 

Everything was so perfect. 

It was later, after my high began to lighten, that I started listening to the worries of Hank and Jean. They were concerned about the baby— No, how my mutation would _affect_ the baby. 

But I wouldn't listen…

I preached about how impossible this baby was in the first place, how me and Logan used protection—_always_ used protection because it is the only way we can make love. So it was God's will to give us this child, He wanted me to have it, so _He_ would protect it; He would make everything okay. 

They finally relented but I would find out later that they were planning. 

It was decided, by the doctors as well as my husband, that I would go to Jean regularly. She ran tests and told me that for the moment, my child was safe. It was floating, within me, in a cocoon of its own making, suspended from my touch in a layer of fluid. And that was it; everything was fine.

Eight and a half months later, I changed… 

I was lounging on Logan, him stroking my hair as he watched a hockey game, and me stroking my belly as I plotted over baby names. Everything seemed so serene and calm… 

And then my water broke… 

Suddenly, I could feel it, its thoughts so premature flooding my mind. 

Darkness… Warmth… And noises, still unidentifiable as voices. 

No, this wasn't the way it was supposed to go! I was scheduled to have a C-section; Jean would open my womb and then rupture my child's safe haven just before removing her, safely, in the lab… 

But we weren't in the lab… and I could feel her in me and I prayed that God would help, 

that He had bless this child like He blessed had her father… 

I prayed that she could heal fast, too. 

I was hysterical, screaming words I can't even remember as Logan carried me to the lower levels, his pace a brisk run. 

There was no time… That's all they would say. The baby needed out now, and my C-Section wasn't scheduled for another week… they weren't prepared. 

Jean told me I would have to do it the old fashioned way and she would help using her telekinesis to make it as quick as possible. 

I remember feeling Logan behind me, supporting my shoulders as he whispered soothingly hopeful words into my ears. I pushed when Hank instructed me to, with Jean holding firmly to my wrist, her eyes closed tightly as she concentrated on helping me through this. 

But like I said, I had changed…My body became a cage again—No, a house, a nice shiny glass house for display purposes only. 

I knew before they knew that I was now empty inside, no one living in the nursery below my heart. I heard the door slam as she departed and took her young mind with her. 

When she broke from the sharp transparent walls of my body, she was sliced and butchered by my skin. And I never got to hear the cries of my child as she was born… But I guess that's just the curse of living in a glass house. 

I still see Logan, through the windows. He's always so upset, but I can't hear him anymore. He just doesn't get it… the doors are shut and I'm not letting anyone else in.

~FINIS 


End file.
